


I Love (the Way) You (Lie)

by midnightshon



Series: A Roommate for the Night [5]
Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2019-08-01 11:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16283489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightshon/pseuds/midnightshon
Summary: Seungwan would turn to face Joohyun and close her eyes, too, wishing that sleep would claim her and bring her to where Joohyun was, hoping that she could live in the dream with her instead.





	I Love (the Way) You (Lie)

**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely on Adele's All I Ask and much more on a movie titled Mr. Holmes.
> 
> Also, I realized that I never wrote a story in which WenRene are a couple from the beginning of the story. So here, my first attempt at that.

“You really should cut down on your alcohol intake if you want to live long.”

 

Son Seungwan, a raven-haired woman sitting at the bar, turned her head sideway. Knowing what she would find, a chuckle escaped her lips as her eyes caught the sight of a familiar blonde. Her chuckle, than it was because of the remark, was more because of what the blonde was doing—she was helping herself a glass from the drink of interest. Talk about cutting down on one’s alcohol intake.

 

“Joohyun, darling,” the raven-haired woman drawled, hands faster than words leaving her mouth as she snatched the glass away, “what took you so long?” Her grin widened under Joohyun’s scowl, the glass empty in her hand.

 

That couldn’t be helped, could it?

 

No, it couldn’t, the first woman decided. They were supposed to meet an hour before that, but she’d been stood up. Without informing her if she’d make it, Joohyun had made her wait for sixty minutes long, and then she’d casually sat on the chair next to hers, intending to steal her last glass of beer. That’s a no, no.

 

Her eyes never left Joohyun as the blonde called a bartender and ordered a drink. She didn’t even blink, eyes busy memorizing Joohyun’s side profile, making sure inch by inch of what’s exposed of the porcelain-like skin was imprinted in her brain. She couldn’t tell if it’s her level of liquor tolerant that had got better, or it’s her brain that still functioned well even when drunk, but damn... Joohyun was one fine woman.

 

That jawline, that cheekbone, her chin—each feature of the woman’s looked perfect, and even more than that. The amount of perfection, it was as if in those seven days God created the universe, He had used one full day and night to sculpt Bae Joohyun alone.

 

She blinked, realizing where the train of thoughts of her drunk mind had brought her to.

 

“My boss—” Joohyun looked in her way at last, interrupting Seungwan’s aimless monolog “—thought it was such a great idea if we all stayed late today. I was held hostage to finish five articles due this Friday.”

 

“Workaholic asshole.”

 

“Right?”

 

Just then, the bartender came back with Joohyun’s order. The blonde thanked the man with a half-smile before turning to Seungwan again, oblivious to the bartender’s eyes on her. Seungwan, on the other hand, noticed it—she always did—and she tried to ignore it as well by averting her attention to the blonde’s drink. (She didn’t blame the bartender; Joohyun was attractive, and there’s no use trying to deny it.)

 

“Coke?”

 

Joohyun nodded, one hand rising to cup Seungwan’s cheek—it was freezing cold against it. “I brought my car, Son Seungwan,” the woman said matter-of-factly. “One of us must stay sober if we don’t want to end up in the hospital.”

 

The raven-haired woman held Joohyun’s hand, determined to warm it up with her own. A breath away, she spoke, a playful smile plastered on her lips, “That motel across the street would do, you know? You don’t need to stay sober.”

 

\--

 

Save for a street light outside that slipped past the curtain, illuminating the room in a dimmed yellow color, it was dark. The little light that was there only managed to line out Joohyun’s sleeping figure, and it was more than enough. In fact, Seungwan needed none of it, because she knew better. She knew to what length her fingers could run along the woman’s side before they met Joohyun’s hips; her fingers had it all memorized.

 

So she did that, exploring the skin in silence. Fingertips met smooth skin, knowing all too well of the trail of fire she’d leave behind.

 

It was like an addiction to her—to admire Joohyun’s beauty, to feel the woman under her touch—and she couldn’t stop it. It must’ve been because of the same reason that she got herself involved with the blonde in the first place.

 

Joohyun was irresistible.

 

Her first encounter with Joohyun, it happened a little over two months earlier. The place was Seungwan’s regular bar which she visited every other Saturday; quite a famous bar in Gangnam district, it’s packed more often than it’s empty. The meeting—not at all romantic, mind you—happened when Seungwan walked up to her usual spot at the bar and found it occupied. A blonde woman, her face red from consuming too much alcohol than she could tolerate, waved in her direction to send her away, completing it with, “Don’t be so childish, there are many empty spots left.”

 

Instead of feeling offended like the blonde might have thought Seungwan would, she was taken aback. She knew who the blonde was. It was Bae Joohyun— _the_ Bae Joohyun, the most beautiful girl back in college. Famous for her natural and intimidating beauty, Joohyun was both admired and feared by fellow college friends.

 

Seungwan, being part of the smaller portion of the girls, appreciating the beauty instead of feeling inferior to it, remembered Joohyun. She remembered attending her graduation day then, sadder than happy that she must bid goodbye to such a beauty. Which was why, years later, that night, she hadn’t expected to see Joohyun there—there out of all places, Joohyun out of all people.

 

She hadn’t expected her there, so she’d taken a seat, wanting to make sure she hadn’t seen it wrong.

 

“... I wonder.”

 

A hoarse voice, barely higher than a whisper, popped Seungwan’s bubble of thoughts. She took a glance at the now awake woman, chuckling to herself when the woman shut her eyes again and yawned. Despite the darkness, the gesture was still cute to Seungwan.

 

“Hm? What is it?” Joohyun caught Seungwan’s fingers, stopping her mind before it wander around again by interlacing their fingers.

 

“What is what?”

 

By that point, Joohyun had turned to face Seungwan, one hand propped to support her head. Seungwan refrained herself from following the trail of smile that was forming on the blonde’s lips, curving the corners upwards, and shaping her eyes crescent—she knew if she did follow, she would end up distracted again. Instead, she centered her attention on the blonde’s voice, listening to her rhetorical question.

 

“Do you know a superhuman ability I’ve been wanting to have lately?” the woman prompted, and without waiting for an answer, she continued, “Mind-reading, so that I can know what you’re thinking all the time.”

 

“It wasn’t much, really,” Seungwan admitted.

 

“You said that, but most of the time, it’s the opposite.” Joohyun heaved a sigh as she brought their clasped hands to her cheek, pressing Seungwan’s palm against her cheekbone. “I wonder if you’d ever let me inside that head of yours.”

 

\--

 

Perhaps, it’s a journalist’s thing, Seungwan told herself.

 

Joohyun’s tendency to ask her what she was thinking, it was part of who she was, carved by years in the field. She didn’t simply wrote articles; she analyzed, she learned how things ticked and why. It’s not that she had to understand—she _needed to_.

 

That quality of the blonde’s, as Seungwan had accepted ever humbly, was the reason Joohyun was stuck with her. Seungwan seldom expressed her mind out loud. She was more of a listener and an observer; her silence might have intrigued Joohyun’s curiosity.

 

Like an old and broken watch, Joohyun was determined to learn how Seungwan ticked. To find what had broken her was her goal—perhaps to fix her, too, while she’s at it.

 

Only that Seungwan wasn’t broken.

 

Joohyun was.

 

Seungwan had witnessed it. She’d heard things. Names—no, _a_ name.

 

Joohyun’s ex.

 

The blonde had cried in her sleep; she’d called for this person’s presence. Seungwan knew it hadn’t been enough, but she’d hugged the woman close. The whimper had continued throughout the night, and the frown had been made permanent on her flawless skin.

 

They never talked about it. Her gut told her that Joohyun knew of those nights, knew that Seungwan had witnessed a side of her she’d never intended for anyone to see. Yet Seungwan never asked. If it was important enough, she convinced herself, Joohyun would’ve told her.

 

Or so she keep chanting to herself, for the sake of comforting her hurt pride. She knew it wasn’t the case. It _was_ important. It’s Seungwan who wasn’t important enough for Joohyun to waste her energy explaining.

 

For the same reason, Seungwan knew she’d find Joohyun waiting for her at the bar every time. Because, despite her knowledge of Joohyun’s secret, Seungwan stayed—the way things worked for Joohyun, Seungwan shouldn’t have. Those questions she’d been asking was her technic to figure out Seungwan’s reasons, and she wouldn’t stop coming until she figured it all out.

 

What might happen once Joohyun did—once Seungwan was no longer a mystery—was what scared her.

 

\--

 

“The light...” Joohyun managed to say in between kisses, hands reaching blindly for a switch.

 

Seungwan caught those hands and pinned them above the blonde’s head. “Shush,” she breathed against an earlobe, eliciting a low moan to travel from the other woman’s throat. “Stay still for a bit,” she ordered in a stern voice, masking her own nervousness with a kiss to Joohyun’s neck. A quick kiss turned sloppy as she dragged her lips along the woman’s jawline down to her chin.

 

“Seungwan?” Joohyun called out just as Seungwan reached one corner of her lips.

 

“Hm?”

 

The blonde let Seungwan proceed with the kiss, even sighing into it when Seungwan pressed her body closer. What she’s about to say was forgotten, lost the moment it got entangled in between their tongues, perhaps got chewed on when Seungwan tugged on Joohyun’s bottom lips with her teeth.

 

Yet it felt like a drill Seungwan had grown accustomed to; she knew what Joohyun wanted. While Joohyun was busy getting the offending layers of clothes off her, Seungwan managed to reach over Joohyun’s shoulder and hit the lamp switch. The room was dark in an instant, and the only thing that let Seungwan know where she’s going was the not so gentle push Joohyun did to her.

 

They were in a rush. At least, so Seungwan felt when the blonde went to straddle her hips. The woman had her ponytail untied, and now strands of golden hair blocked her line of sight as she looked down at Seungwan. Any other night, Joohyun would run her fingers through it, then brought it to one side of her head, holding it in such a way as if she was posing. A smirk would accompany that pose, screaming, “I know you want me,” to drive Seungwan insane. However, now she didn’t; neither did she look away. Eyes one shade darker than the darkest corner of her room, there were fire burning behind them.

 

Seungwan reached out, fingers tucking golden locks behind the blonde’s ear, and Joohyun met her in the middle, leaning down to capture Seungwan’s lips, dragging her closer to the flame. The silent plea was answered in that instant; Seungwan grabbed Joohyun by the shoulder, switched their position over, and walked Joohyun through the fire, burning what’s left of her sanity, leaving her with nothing but incoherent words and a bliss she wouldn’t seem to recover from any time soon.

 

Had Joohyun not asked her to turn off the light, however, Seungwan wondered if the woman would get the answer she’d been looking for. The reason for Seungwan’s constant presence in her life, would she find it then?

 

She would, Seungwan supposed, because she could spot that line of smile forming on the woman’s face as the dreamland claimed her. If Seungwan could despite the darkness, why wouldn’t Joohyun once the room was flooded with light?

 

\--

 

Not wanting to make any sound, Seungwan stuffed her phone into her pocket instead of throwing it to a coffee table. Her mind might be a mess because of that phone call, but she remembered that Joohyun was still asleep. If anything, waking the woman up was the last thing she wanted at the moment.

 

She made her way to the balcony, hoping the fresh air would clear her mind—as naïve as it could be.

 

It was from her mother. It was the first time she talked to the older woman since she left home weeks ago, and after quite a while not talking to her, Seungwan forgot that her mother could be restless at times. She’d asked how Seungwan had been, whether she’d been eating properly, and everything; Seungwan had taken a note to remind her mother that she’s not a five the next time she called. But then, her mother had paused, as if stalling for something important, before asking,

 

“When will you come home?”

 

She hadn’t answered. She would’ve asked if her mother knew about it, but that wouldn’t answer the question. Besides, her mother wouldn’t have called if she hadn’t known.

 

The older woman must’ve sensed Seungwan’s hesitation, because she hadn’t pressed it. Instead, she’d hung up right after saying, “Come back whenever you’re ready. I trust you with your decision.”

 

Despite herself and the frustration that’s present after its three-month absence, Seungwan had stopped herself from making a call. He’s just a phone call away, but, hell, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She couldn’t face him, not even his voice—she needed more time.

 

And it was for this one reason—this one reason alone—that Seungwan had come to Joohyun every single time. Or rather, it’s because of this reason that she’d stayed when she should’ve gone back home.

 

She was on a run.

 

She was on a run from a promising future she had no desire to pursue.

 

“You’re up early.”

 

And here, the one thing in this world Seungwan would be more than willing to live forever with.

 

Two slender arms hugged her neck from behind as the owner rested her chin on her shoulder, her cheek warm against Seungwan’s. She smiled to herself, feeling Joohyun stifle a yawn on her shoulder, an image of a sleepy Joohyun vivid in her mind.

 

“I needed to receive a call,” she told the blonde, one hand reaching for the latter’s and body relaxing to the embrace.

 

Joohyun hummed in response. Had she been curious of who the caller was, she didn’t show it. Instead, she buried her head deeper to Seungwan’s shoulder, battling against her sleepiness.

 

A few minutes must’ve passed as they stayed like that when Joohyun broke the silence. “I miss your red hair,” the blonde stated.

 

A chuckle escaped Seungwan’s lips. Out of all random things they could be talking about, Joohyun just had to start with one about her hair.

 

“You’d only seen it for a few days.”

 

“Hence me missing it.”

 

Seungwan remembered the day Joohyun first saw her black hair then. The blonde had frowned upon it, commenting how she liked it red better. She’d also asked why Seungwan did so. The question was prompted again.

 

“Red is too bright, I don’t like it,” Seungwan recited her answer from three months ago, once again leaving out the fact that she would be too eye-catching in public. Before Joohyun could say more to it (the last time, she’d suggested wigs, considering Seungwan wanted to stay unnoticeable so much, she’d said), Seungwan turned around and held the blonde by the waist, bringing her closer.

 

Fingers playing with golden locks, Seungwan noticed how the root was turning black; for a fleeting moment, she wondered how good Joohyun would look with black hair. She told this to the blonde.

 

“I was thinking—”

 

“You think too much,” interrupted Joohyun, hands moving to the back of Seungwan’s neck. “Think less when you’re with me.”

 

Seungwan gave her a look, pausing long enough to make sure the blonde wouldn’t interrupt again. “I was thinking that you’d look great raven-haired.”

 

Contemplating the suggestion, Joohyun titled her head with a brow rose. “Couple look?”

 

“Are we?”

 

The questioning look turned into a frown—it didn’t last long, but enough for Seungwan to notice—before the woman grinned. “Dye it for me then,” she decided.

 

Seungwan blinked. “What, like, right now?”

 

Joohyun shrugged, “Why not?”

 

\--

 

At times, Seungwan would wonder if it’s all right to feel that way, to be thankful of someone’s misery. She might be the worst, but Seungwan was glad that Joohyun split up with her ex. Where would Seungwan be now had she not? Hell, Joohyun wouldn’t have come to the bar in the first place, wouldn’t have swallowed down the hurtful breakup with alcohol, and Seungwan would’ve stuck in a world she had zero interest of living in.

 

Some other times, she would realize how unhealthy this thing she’d been doing with Joohyun. It needed no Sherlock Holmes for Seungwan to know that Joohyun was using her as much as she did the other woman.

 

At nights when Joohyun was too drunk to remember her lock door combination number, she’d cup Seungwan’s face, eyes twinkling with a genuine, content smile. There were no words exchanged, but Joohyun would bury her head at the meet of Seungwan’s shoulder and neck, and Seungwan would see a stranger reflected in those dark orbs. Joohyun would go to sleep with the image of her ex, and Seungwan would hold her close anyway, protecting her from harm the imaginary ex-girlfriend could do.

 

At those nights, Seungwan would cross out another day from the remaining days she had. With Joohyun sleeping soundly in her arms, she knew she’d have to leave once there were no more days left to cross out. She would have to leave and face her reality. At those nights, Seungwan would turn to face Joohyun and close her eyes, too, wishing that sleep would claim her and bring her to where Joohyun was, hoping that she could live in the dream with her instead.

 

\--

 

“If you keep that up, you’ll get us arrested.”

 

Seungwan glanced at Joohyun, shooting her a puzzled look, before focusing to find a parking spot.

 

“That, driving like a mad woman. You almost broke the limit,” Joohyun elaborated, but then she pointed at something to her right. “There, that one’s empty.”

 

Seungwan drove the car to the said spot, eyes fixated on the rear mirror. “That’s the keyword, isn’t it? _Almost_. I didn’t actually break it. We’re fine.”

 

Joohyun scoffed at the side, “Sometimes I wonder what you’re doing wasting that smartass brain of yours. You would’ve made a great lawyer or something.”

 

“I’m that something,” Seungwan declared, one hand reaching for Joohyun’s seatbelt to unfasten it. “Here to keep you entertained.”

 

The blonde (the _blonde_ , because the only place they could dye Joohyun’s hair at home was in the bathroom; God knows how the hair dying tools were left untouched in the cabinet while they’d left the bathroom sorer than before they’d entered) smiled to one side, voice dripping off mockery, “Aww, that’s so sweet of you.”

 

“Worth keeping, am I not?” Seungwan had meant it as a joke, but she didn’t fail to notice how the smile on Joohyun’s face went dim. She had no time to clarify it, however, because Joohyun had closed the distance between them with a peck on Seungwan’s mouth, as if to bury her unspoken answer there.

 

At times like this, Seungwan had to remind herself that she, too, was using Joohyun; that the only reason she was still there was her cowardice to face reality—to face _him_ ; that she was in no way attached to the other woman; that, no matter how bothering the sensation was, she shouldn’t feel hurt every time Joohyun showed zero interest in her—romantically, anyway.

 

“But seriously, you could get us arrested,” Joohyun spoke once they’re in the elevator. “There’s this reckless driver on police’s wanted list. He’s run over three people in the past week.”

 

Seungwan laughed at that, amused at the frown forming on Joohyun’s forehead. “And you thought we’d be suspected as the hit-and-run guy because we were speeding up?”

 

“I thought _you_ would be suspected because _you_ were speeding up, yes.”

 

“Right,” Seungwan chuckled.

 

“Seungwan, I’m serious.”

 

Just then, the elevator dinged and opened. Seungwan shut her mouth and led Joohyun out instead, one hand finding Joohyun’s to prevent the woman from hitting her, in case she got annoyed at Seungwan’s nonchalant attitude.

 

“I’ve never exceeded the limit though,” she told Joohyun. “I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry.”

 

Another scoff as the blonde spoke, “Who says I’m worried.”

 

Seungwan smiled to herself, “Of course you’re not.”

 

They found themselves the same spot at the bar. Their visit this time around was to celebrate Joohyun for being crowned the journalist of the year at work. There’s nothing fancy whatsoever, (Joohyun had refused the celebration at first, calling it ridiculous to begin with, but Seungwan had insisted) just the two of them drinking the night away, perhaps revealing one or two cards of each other in the process.

 

Or not at all, because Joohyun was quiet when she drank. She just sat there, pouring drink for herself one glass after another, once in a while laughing at a joke that came across her mind. And Seungwan was simply watching from the side, refraining herself from drinking as much because she drove, and ended up observing Joohyun like she always did.

 

That silly yet bright smile, Seungwan wondered what might cause it. The chance that it’s her was next to nothing, but if one day Seungwan told the woman that she’s leaving, would that smile dim even if just a little?

 

The universe, as if having an unavenged hatred toward her, decided to ruin the night for her and answer that one question.

 

It’s like a sixth sense to her. Rather than seeing, she was sensing the presence— _his_ presence. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted him on the other side of the dance floor, dressed in his favorite white turtle neck sweater and a black jacket, eyes nailing Seungwan to her seat—there’s no escaping him.

 

She thought she’d ran away far enough; she didn’t knew reality would catch up to her as fast.

 

Before she knew it, he was right before her eyes. His smile was hesitant, but still he called out, “Wendy?”

 

That name stung, ringing in a foreign tone in her ear. She hadn’t been Wendy for last three months—she wanted to stop being one.

 

Joohyun, realizing the man’s presence, turned in her seat to see him before throwing a questioning look at Seungwan.

 

“He—Henry,” the name stuck in her throat, as though there was this huge rock blocking it.

 

The man’s face brightened up at the call and he stepped forward, arms stretched out. Next thing Seungwan knew, she was collected in his arms. Warm, Henry’s jacket was warm, paled in comparison to what she received over Henry’s shoulder—Joohyun’s dark, expressionless orbs staring back at her.

 

“Babe, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Henry pulled himself away, that bright smile still plastered on his lips. “Supposedly, I’d be seeing you in a week from now but, wow, this is a very pleasant surprise.”

 

“Yeah...”

 

“And—hey,” Henry shifted his eyes to Seungwan’s hair, catching the tips in his hand, “your hair.”

 

Seungwan nodded, “Yeah, I dyed it.”

 

Henry nodded along. His smile persisted, eyes never leaving Seungwan’s face even for a second. Seungwan, too, would continue to stare at him—to notice his now brownish hair, his more-prominent cheekbones—had she not felt her side burning from the look Joohyun had given her. She broke the eye contact in time with Henry realizing his surroundings.

 

He immediately bowed to the blonde and muttered an apology, to which Joohyun replied with an equal amount of awkwardness, eyes sending a silent demand of an explanation to Seungwan.

 

“I didn’t know Wendy was with a friend. I apologize for interrupting.”

 

Seungwan had to stop the man before he broke his back. “No, it’s okay. It’s—” Seungwan glanced back at Joohyun who had grown more expressionless by the minute “—okay.”

 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” the blonde spoke up. “We were just talking. So,” Joohyun turned to her, head tilting to one side, “Wendy.”

 

Right. Seungwan cursed the universe, the heaven above—whatever had joined the conspiracy. She should’ve listened to Joohyun earlier.

 

She smiled at Henry, hand gesturing to the blonde as she spoke, “Henry, this is Bae Joohyun—” what were they, again? “—uh, a friend of mine. And Joohyun, this is Henry Lau—”

 

Seungwan was dreading. She wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by the floor beneath her, or to vanish into thin air—just _anything_ , as long as she didn’t have to do this introduction.

 

“—my fiancé.”

 

\--

 

The room, for once, was bright. Lamps were switched on—Seungwan noticed there’s this purplish table lamp, which she hadn’t before, on a small desk in one corner—and the ceiling looked too bright for her liking. It felt like a dream, but, for the first time, she wasn’t alone in the dream; there’s Joohyun, lying next to her, drawing invisible patterns on Seungwan’s stomach with her finger.

 

Their staring contest had been going on for God-knows-how-long since they arrived back at Joohyun’s place. Seungwan had put it all there, in her eyes, answers and explanations to every question. However, when Joohyun looked away, Seungwan knew she still hadn’t found it.

 

The lights were of no use at all.

 

“You’re engaged.”

 

The words hung low in the air. Seungwan opened her mouth, wanting to confirm the statement, but closed it again. Before she could say anything, Joohyun had spoken again.

 

“How did... no, don’t tell me that.”

 

The blonde woman paused, jaws tightening—Seungwan had never seen Joohyun this troubled before, seemingly lost for words—and she just cursed under her breath after. She knew; Joohyun must’ve understood.

 

She was the first to rise from her position. She made her way to the purple table lamp—purple, was it Joohyun’s favorite color?—and spilled everything. The words flew out like water out of a broken dam, and it made her wonder why she hadn’t done it sooner.

 

“He gave me time to think,” she started. “Three months to decide, because I asked that from him. That was my condition. So he did, and I used it like a free pass ticket. I ran away from him, because I knew this was not meant for me. I was buying some time, hoping that if I made him wait long enough, he’d get sick of me and eventually leave.”

 

 _“Don’t take too long, love,”_ Henry’s voice resonated in her head, like a song from a broken gramophone—loud, hurting her eardrums.

 

_“I won’t.”_

_“Will I see you here then?” asked Henry, voice hopeful—trustful. “On your birthday? Let’s celebrate it together. I’ll hear your answer then.”_

_Wendy laughed at the prospect, “Henry, my birthday isn’t until next year. It’s, like, three months from now; I won’t take that long.”_

_The man smiled back at her, nodding with a look that scared Wendy a little—how could someone be so understanding?_

_“I know you won’t.”_

 

“It’s my birthday next week,” she told Joohyun.

 

She didn’t know how long she’d stood there after, but then Joohyun spoke, and she knew it’s already too late to salvage whatever they had—what was it that they had again? Seungwan didn’t even have any idea what to call it. A relationship? A relationship with another woman when she herself was engaged—soon to get married—with a man?

 

“So, that’s what you were doing with me?” Joohyun asked aloud. “Sabotaging his trust?”

 

Joohyun still didn’t get it, did she?

 

“That night I met you at the bar, I already decided that I wanted to call it off. When he proposed, I didn’t know what was stopping me from saying yes, but that night I realized why; I’d never loved him the way he loved me. I couldn’t tell him that.”

 

She turned to face Joohyun, but the latter wasn’t looking. She continued nonetheless, “You probably had no idea, but I’d always known you since college. I’d always admired you since then. And that night when I saw you again after so long, I remembered that I—good God, Joohyun, would you please look at me?”

 

Joohyun didn’t budge—she probably wasn’t listening either. Her back was all she gave Seungwan.

 

“Joohyun, please...” She couldn’t take it anymore; she rounded the bed and got to Joohyun’s side of the bed, kneeling before the blonde.

 

Before she could say anything, however, Joohyun had beat her to it. Hands holding her shoulder back, the other woman muttered her disagreement. “No. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need to.”

 

“But _I_ want you to hear it. _I_ need to say it. Joohyun, listen—”

 

“No,” Joohyun cut her off, eyes red from anger she’s holding in, “y _ou_ listen to me—” she paused, hesitation evident in her bloodshot eyes “—Wendy.”

 

The familiar name sounded distant to her own ear.

 

“I don’t. I _don’t_ like you.” The statement was loud and clear. “I don’t love you. It’s just for fun, what we’ve been doing. We’re both sexually frustrated, you because of the proposal and me because of my failed relationship. It’s mere excitement. Nothing more than that. Think about it again; you might have mistaken it for love.”

 

Seungwan had long accepted the fact that Joohyun had no interest in her—somewhat. But still, when the rejection was spelled out loud, she couldn’t stop her heart from breaking. It hurt.

 

This was it, Seungwan told herself, the waking up point from a dream that wouldn’t last. A dream of forever with the woman who was bidding her goodbye.

 

Hands cupping Seungwan’s face close, as if holding a vase made of glass—fragile, and if Joohyun wanted to, she could’ve just broken it right there and then—Joohyun spoke to her, “You have someone who love you dearly, and he’s waiting for you. Go back to him. He loves you and will never let you go.”

 

“No... Joohyun, please...”

 

“Go back to him, Seungwan. You’ll be okay.”

 

\----

 

The loud sound of a kettle in the kitchen brought Joohyun’s feet there. Walking in a lazy motion, she removed the noisy thing from the stove and pour its content to a cup. The familiar scent of coffee filled her nostrils, forcing her eyes wide open, and Joohyun allowed the last bit of sleepiness escape her lips in a yawn.

 

What could be better than a glass of coffee on a Monday morning?

 

Joohyun didn’t realize how much she’d missed the taste until she took a sip from her cup. How long was it again, three months? Four? Joohyun couldn’t remember, but for the first time since she stopped seeing Sooyoung, she was drinking the younger woman’s favorite drink again.

 

She wasn’t being hopeful. For God’s sake, she wasn’t. More than it was to savor the sweet memory of the younger’s, it served as a reminder of what Sooyoung had done to her—she hadn’t added sugar to her coffee, mind you, and it was bitter, as bitter as what Sooyoung had done then. It acted as a reminder so she wouldn’t forget that she was once hurt, a reminder that she wouldn’t be as stupid for the second time.

 

Sooyoung had left her for someone else, a stranger she met during her stay in Japan last year. Joohyun had no idea what Sooyoung had seen in that woman, but the younger had told her that she must understand. She’d made a mistake, Sooyoung had said, she’d thought she’d loved Joohyun.

 

_“Then that woman you’d called countless times in your sleep, I could say the same for her. She didn’t love you enough, because if she had, she wouldn’t have let go.”_

Her bedroom door had been closed with a loud bang that night. Seungwan had closed it with such a force, and had never returned since.

 

... Seungwan.

 

The woman whose presence had made Joohyun stop taking her daily intake of caffeine, but now made Joohyun take it again in her absence.

 

It was for the better, she told herself again. She’d told herself that this morning when she woke up to an empty, cold bed; she’d told herself that when she walked past the cabinet in the bathroom and spotted the hair dying tools inside; she’d told herself that when she looked at her phone and it informed her that it’s February 21st—Seungwan’s birthday.

 

It was for the better that Seungwan left. She almost ruined the woman’s relationship with her fiancé, and she shouldn’t have.

 

But it could still be saved, she reminded herself. Unlike her own, Joohyun wasn’t anything like that sly woman who had stolen her Sooyoung. Unlike that evil, Joohyun had sent Seungwan back to her fiancé. She’d convinced Seungwan that she didn’t love her. Seungwan had gone back to her fiancé.

 

Everything would go back to normal.

 

Everything would be all right.

 

Everything—

 

A single tear that rolled down her cheek startled her. It was hot against her skin—burning—and before she could stop it, the dam had broken. Her tears fell down in a stream she couldn’t hold back, accumulated from the pretend she’d been playing since Seungwan left.

 

Nothing would be all right.

 

She’d lied to Seungwan, and the latter had believed her.

 

\----

 

“I’m out from the salon, actually.” Seungwan moved her phone from her right ear to the left as she opened the door and walked out.

 

“Ah, is that so?” she heard Henry’s voice from the other end. “What color did you pick?”

 

Seungwan stopped when she caught her reflection in a window from a store. She smiled, satisfied when she noticed that the color matched her outfit. “It’s a secret,” she told the man.

 

Henry groaned in response, way too dramatic to be called a natural one. “Is this your way of saying that you want to see me? I’m a very busy man, Wendy Shon.” Soon, he joined in laughter with Seungwan.

 

As they caught their breath, Seungwan tried to detect anything out of ordinary from Henry’s tone. Nothing. The man sounded the same, still as happy—too happy, for that matter.

 

“Look, Henry, you know we must talk about it, right?”

 

A pause, and Seungwan could imagine the man exhaling and then smiling as he prepared his answer. At last, he spoke, “I know, but it can wait. I can wait, but _she_ can’t. Go find her, Wendy, and we can talk after that.”

 

“I’m sorry...”

 

“Don’t be,” the man chided, his voice confident and strong, nothing like the man who just returned his engagement ring to his (no longer) soon-to-be in-law. “I’m doing this for myself. Don’t be sorry.”

 

Seungwan gripped her phone tighter, holding back the urge to run to her car and drive to Henry’s house as fast as she could. This man, before he was a boyfriend and a fiancé, was her friend, and Seungwan wanted nothing more than to comfort him. Henry might think he’d fool her mother while handing that envelope, but Seungwan knew better. She’d hurt him, and he deserved better than one lame apology.

 

Letting out a quiet sigh, she finally said, “Thank you.”

 

“That’s better. Now go find her.”

 

As the call ended, Seungwan fished out the envelope from her pocket and stared at it again. A birthday present from her fiancé, her mother had told her that morning. Inside, she found a letter and a ring—their engagement ring—Henry’s.

 

 _“I think I’ve said it countless times before, but I like you best when you smile,”_ the letter started. _“I was confident enough I could be the reason of that smile; that I could make you smile every day, and that’s why I proposed. I’m not sure when I began to realize this, but I guess it had something to do with not seeing you the last three months. Your smile, it’s different. I, too, only noticed it when I saw you that night—when you were with her. The smile you’d always given me wasn’t as bright as the one that absently formed on your lips while you were watching her._

_“Wendy-yah, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself. And here, our engagement ring. Let’s call it off.”_

 

Seungwan couldn’t bring herself to read the rest for the second time; it’d only remind her of how selfless and understanding Henry was and how selfish and cowardice she was. She hated it.

 

Yet she was thankful. If there’s anyone who knew Seungwan better than herself, it’s Henry. She’s thankful to have him as a friend; she’s thankful to him for giving her a chance she thought she would never have—a chance to be with Joohyun.

 

Then she took off her own ring, and tossed it into the envelope, joining the letter and Henry’s ring. She folded it as neatly as possible and held it tight in her fist. She inhaled as much oxygen as she could then exhaled it. She repeated the action several times until she felt the weight on her chest become lighter.

 

She’s going to see Joohyun.

 

The thought alone was enough to bring a smile to her face. She’s going to see Joohyun, and she’d tell the blonde about her feeling. Joohyun might’ve insisted that she had no feeling for Seungwan, but Seungwan didn’t care. She’s going to confess—she needed Joohyun to hear it—and this time, without anyone or anything weighing down her feeling for the woman.

 

So she crossed the street, one hand disarming her car’s alarm, and she didn’t see it. Joohyun was everything she could see ahead of her, Joohyun’s smile, Joohyun’s blonde hair, Joohyun’s sleepy face. Those image filled her mind, making the smile on her lips permanent, that she hadn’t seen it coming—

 

Of a black car making a sharp turn around the corner and speeding up her way.

 

She hadn’t seen it, because Joohyun was all that she had in mind.

 

\----

 

“You look a little pale.”

 

Joohyun averted her eyes from the road outside the window to a man driving her car. Kim Kibum caught her eyes, before returning back to the road ahead, and asked, “Did you have lunch?”

 

She scoffed at that, “What is lunch when your boss cares more about a headline than his employees’ health?”

 

Kibum’s laughter filled the car as he made a U-turn. “Well, that I can’t argue with. But I understand why he’s so excited about this one.”

 

“Yeah,” Joohyun nodded along, “the fourth victim, but the first one to die on the spot. It’s sure going to make news.”

 

“Committed in broad daylight, at that matter,” Kibum added, his face hardened. “Whoever is behind this hit-and-run must have a death wish.”

 

They arrived at the scene thirty minutes later, just in time with an ambulance. The road was secured with police line, three officers guarding the border. Being one of the few trusted newspaper in Seoul, Joohyun and Kibum were granted an entrance as soon as they showed their ID cards. They’re directed to one of the detectives in charge—they knew the man, Detective Kim Heechul, who they’d worked with before.

 

“Said he was speeding up from three blocks away,” the detective began. “We’re asking people around here, in case any of them remembered seeing the plate number.”

 

They stopped as they passed two hospital crews lifting up a body covered in a white cloth to a wheeled carrier—blood sipping through the thin cover, Irene could only imagine how severe the bleeding had been.

 

“Ah, poor young lady, her newly dyed-hair had gone to waste,” commented the detective.

 

“How do you know she just dyed it?” Kibum asked.

 

“There were people who saw her coming out of that salon.” Detective Kim moved his hand about. “They said she’d come out with bright red hair. Poor young lady.”

 

... Red?

 

Joohyun turned to Kim Heechul at the mention of red. And just then, she heard something drop near her. It’s a ring, stopping right before her shoe, along with a paper drenched in blood. She crouched down to take a closer look, and called out to the hospital crews, “Hey, I think you dropped these—”

 

 _Wendy Shon_ , Hangul carved on the ring spelled.

 

Joohyun paused and blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, she witnessed her world crumbling right before her eyes.

 

Wendy Shon.

 

Wendy.

 

Seungwan.

 

 _Seungwan_.

 

“No, no, no... Seungwan, no...”

 

She didn’t know how, but next thing she knew she was grabbing the white cover, forcing it open. (She vaguely heard Detective Kim and Kibum yelling behind her, but she couldn’t care less.) There’s nothing much she could see but the sickening color of dry blood, but then she looked down and—those pale lips... those pale lips, Joohyun would recognize them _anywhere_.

 

And that red hair—

 

It was Seungwan.

 

It was her Seungwan, and so she collected her in her arms. “No, Seungwan, please don’t do this... Seungwan, please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you, please don’t do this to me. I—I didn’t mean what I said, did you hear me? I didn’t mean it. Seungwan, love, please wake up?”

 

Her hands were red, dripping off blood that didn’t seem like it’d stop flowing from Seungwan’s head, but Seungwan said nothing. Seungwan didn’t respond to her.

 

Joohyun wiped her tears away, hating how it blocked her eyes from seeing Seungwan properly. “Didn’t you dye your hair for me? Why don’t you brag about it to me, huh? Come on, Seungwan, say something. Please...”

 

Two strong arms peeled her own off Seungwan’s head, pulling her away from the woman. In cue, the two men pushed the wheeled carrier away.

 

“No. Wait. Where are you bringing her? I’m not done talking to her yet. Wait!” Kicking, shouting, Joohyun tried everything, but she was powerless against whoever that was holding her.

 

“Shh..., Joohyun. It’s okay...” Kibum whispered in her ear. “She’s gone, Joohyun. There’s nothing we could do.”

 

She choked on her own breath; her chest felt like it could explode any moment then.

 

“She...”

 

“She’s gone, Joohyun.” Kibum’s hold tightened around her, but that was no use; her world was shattering right before eyes—she was shattering to pieces—and nothing could stop that. “That woman, you know her?”

 

“No, Kibum, I—” she was her world, she was her everything, and they’re taking her away from Joohyun “—I love her.”

 

And Joohyun cried, and cried, because there’s nothing else she could do—nothing to make Seungwan hear her confession. Ever.

 

A few meters behind them, lay the paper covered in Seungwan’s blood, long forgotten, with only the last line left readable.

 

_“We don’t have to proceed with the marriage; let’s tell our parents once everything’s sorted out. Now you go back to her, and be happy.”_

 

\--------

**Author's Note:**

> I tried, really, I tried to write a happy fic. I mean, look at that bright prospect of a fully-rated fic from the first cut scene. Sighs.


End file.
